Dramione
by msec
Summary: Draco and Hermione return to repeat their final year at Hogwarts. The headmistress seems to be bent on house unity, especially between Slytherin and Gryffindor, the classic rivals. But love is a tricky thing and people always get hurt. But who?
1. Back to Hogwarts

_Dear Mr. Malfoy,_

_We are pleased to invite you back to repeat your seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as Head Boy. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. _

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress_

Draco laid down the papers and reached into the envelope at the feet of the Hogwarts owl, pulling out a shiny badge embellished with the colors of his school. He lifted an eyebrow, which was the only indication of any shock to him being chosen as Head Boy.

Putting a sickle into the tawny owl's pouch as it prepared to leave, Draco went upstairs to double check that he had packed everything he would need for his last year at Hogwarts.

He almost called out for his mother to come with him to the train station as she did every year, but caught himself. His mother, Narcissa Malfoy, was being detained at the Ministry for her involvement with the Dark Lord during the Second Wizarding War. She and Lucius Malfoy were under serious investigation. Draco silently cursed himself for being so dependent and childish with his mother. He could live on his own. He'd have to.

With his trunk and his Quidditch gear, Draco Malfoy apparated to Platform 9 & ¾. He allowed himself a small smile when he saw the bright red train waiting for him there, because he knew that he didn't have to be alone anymore.


	2. Tall boys and trains

Hermione raced through the enchanted entrance of Platform 9 & ¾ just in time. She pulled her muggle suitcase behind her, up onto the train car as the train whistled an "all aboard" warning.

She paced down the corridor as quickly as she could while peeking into each window for the telltale signs of her friends. Hermione kept an eye out for the least conspicuous of her friends, the Weasleys who could be identified by their fiery hair. But then Hermione saw a gaggle of younger girls giggling and peering into a compartment near the end of the train.

Hermione smiled because she had found her friends. Only Neville Longbottom could attract so many twittering females.

Just as she picked up her pace, she found herself face to face-actually, face to chest, as the man she collided with was considerably taller than she was.

"Oh my god, I am _so_ sorry," she stammered, looking up, "I didn't-"

Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy was the one whose chest she was touching.

_Draco Malfoy_ was the one whom she had just apologized to.

She backed of immediately and sharply, letting out a sound of disgust as a reflex.


	3. Fair weather friends

Draco stormed out of the compartment holding his former Slytherin friends with anger, slamming the sliding door.

How _dare_ they?

Before the fall of Voldemort, they had all clamored for his attention. Blaise was even so crass as to ask Draco to let him join Voldemort's cause. Of course, the blonde had refused. Not even Blaise Zabini deserved something so monstrous to be inflicted on him.

Now, when he entered their usual compartment, he found that it was full, with Michael Corner and Marietta Edgecombe filling up spots where Draco and Vincent would have otherwise occupied.

"What's going on guys?" exclaimed Draco cheerily.

Usually Pansy would have squealed and leapt into his arms. But today, none of his friend could meet his eyes. Their eyes were all down cast, save for Blaise and Pansy who were sharing a look of understanding. Their eyes had a silent conversation before Blaise stood up.

"Look Draco," said the dark Italian carefully, fully aware of Draco's temper, "I think it's best if you would just leave."

"Blaise," said Draco incredulously, "You can't be serious. We're friends."

"What makes you think that? You never treated us as equals. You just used us for power. And to be honest, we were doing the same thing. There's no point in getting riled up. It is just business."

"Pansy," questioned Draco, "Do you feel the same way?"

Pansy, still seated, met his eyes with coldness.

"As far as I'm concerned, you're just another link that I can do without. Really, what can you do for me now? Everybody has so much contempt for us Slytherins and you most of all. I can't afford any affiliation with you anymore Draco. Surely you understand. It's nothing personal."

"It never _was_ personal, was it Pansy?" blurted Draco, getting increasingly angry, "You never cared about me? You wanted me for my _connections_? Is that it? I can't believe this!"

"You need to calm down, this doesn't need to get violent." said Pansy quietly.

Obviously, Draco disagreed, because he chose this moment to pull out his wand. Immediately, he found himself facing the wands of Pansy, Blaise, Gregory, that Edgecombe girl and Corner.

"So, what? You're all muggle lovers now?" yelled Draco, furious at his companions' sudden change in behavior, " And Ravenclaws? Really? I at least thought that traitors would have _some_ standards!"

Draco Malfoy detested all the other houses for different reasons. Gryffindors, he hated because of their unbearable and idiotic members. Hufflepuffs he hated on principle, because of their sappy principles of love and tolerance. Ravenclaws were a whole other story. Most Slytherins got along just fine with Ravenclaws, because of their shared interest in learning. The two houses valued intelligence and ambition. Draco hated Ravenclaw just as much as he did the other two houses.

"_Draco Malfoy!" shouted Professor McGonagall._

_The pale blonde boy stepped forward with false confidence. He had told those two bumbling idiots on the train about how he was surely going to be in Slytherin. But he was growing less and less sure with every step towards the sorting hat. Where did he really belong?_

_Before he knew it, he had the hat in his hand. Sitting on the crudely made stool, he steeled himself and put on the sorting hat. _

_**Ah, a Malfoy. I was beginning to wonder when I would be seeing you here. I can see that you have quite a bit of magical ability. You've got ambition, laced with cunning. There are traces of courage in here. You are proud, that is undeniable. But I am sensing something else. Intelligence. You obviously value knowledge, even more than many people who I've placed in Ravenclaw. I think you could do your best in Ravenclaw… Slytherin? Why would you want to be in Slytherin? Don't you want to feed your intellect? Ah, I see… your father. I guess you have less courage than I thought you did.**_

"Draco, just go. No one wants you here. Don't you know when to give it a _rest_?" yelled Blaise.

His former friend's voice brought the former Death Eater back to the present. Silver sparks were flying out of Draco's wand. He let out a sound of frustration at their stubborn disloyalty and left the way he came, cursing under his breath.

In his rush, he didn't look where he was going and ran straight into a small girl in just as much of a hurry. The smell of cinnamon entered Draco's nose. It reminded him of watching his mother make cinnamon buns in the Manor's kitchens. The memory softened his sharp manner. It didn't hurt that there was a pretty girl pressed against his chest. Then she backed away and he saw Hermione Granger, one of his least favorite people that he had the displeasure of associating with. A sound escaped her that showed her obvious revulsion and instantly his manner returned to its original rage.

"You best watch where you're going, mudblood," said Draco with distain, "You're embarrassing yourself."

"Is that really the best you can come up with Malfoy?" inquired the curly haired lioness of Gryffindor. "You ought to know how little affect that has on me. Your kind aunt decided to immunize me. It's hard to let something that's embellished on your skin, insult you." She thrust out her left arm, unashamed of the word carved there.

He felt his face get warm, because her words hit him harder than any spell could. _His_ left arm was covered at all times, either by a suit or glamour. He tried to think of a response, but he was more than little bit angry and pretty distracted by the knowledge of the Slytherins being able to see the entire transaction from behind the glass sliding door.

"Sorry," muttered Draco as he slid past the witch barely letting his lips move.


End file.
